


chronobreak

by eloboosting



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Gen, M/M, fic made obsolete by time and circumstances, incomplete fic collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 03:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17737745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloboosting/pseuds/eloboosting
Summary: From Nasus:The cycle of life and death continues. We will live, they will die.Your legacy shall drift away; blown into eternity, like the sands of the desert.or as my fav Renekton says,"fuck off, I'll tear you apart under tower."





	1. imp/deft/rekkles - love triangle failures

**Author's Note:**

> The summary is a little cryptic, but essentially this is a bunch of fic I started writing and set down and have not aged well with changing team rosters. It felt burdensome to keep them in my drive, so I decided to collect them together. I'll try to organize and title everything appropriately, but if I focus too much on details I'm going to suffer an aneurysm. And remember, these are all incomplete, I write in snippets, so the organization will likely be poor
> 
> (Also, I have always loved Nasus's champ select quote the most, so yeah, I forced it in here.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was my first ever fic for league, literally the pairings that sucked me into the fandom at all (that rekkles/deft feature at 2015 worlds...riot's fic department at its best) and also one that will never be finished. for those that know me, yes, the last part with mata is directly connected with a previous fic of mine that I cut out and threw onto the web when I realized I was never going to get the main story finished

Honestly, it’d never crossed Martin's mind that Hyukkyu might be spoken for already—that he was an unwelcome stranger encroaching on another relationship. All he had known was Deft's uncanny ability to carry, his rapid transformation from lazy laning to impeccable positioning and burst. It was skill that had first caught Martin's attention, but then he’d met Hyukkyu in person and realized how damn _adorable_ he was.

His teammates have always accused him of being a flirt, and with the stack of phone number-filled sticky notes on his desk, he can’t really disagree. It’s a quirk of his personality—or, well, that’s what he’d told himself to excuse the slow once-over he’d given Hyukkyu during their first meeting, the feeling of joy he felt at the slight flushing of Hyukkyu's cheeks.

"Hey," he'd said, smooth and just a touch sweet, a perfect mix he's a little ashamed to admit he's rehearsed for hours in front of a mirror. "It's great to finally meet you."

Hyukkyu had blinked, the flustered look on his face resembling that of a lost puppy. "Ah," he'd said. "Um, hello."

It wasn't the most enthusiastic of replies, but that's never stopped Martin before.

And it doesn't this time either, because what ends up actually stopping him is a real, solid, flesh-and-blood person.

-    

If anything, Martin isn't stupid, and he's not going to outright ask Hyukkyu if he's gay (and even if he isn't would he still consider Martin anyway? Because Martin's not into guys either, but Hyukkyu is an exception he's somehow totally okay with.) He understands that homosexuality isn't exactly a crowd-pleaser in Korea and he's perfectly fine with staring into Hyukkyu's pretty brown eyes, with the weekly texts and chats—if anything, having just the flirty looks and banter for now makes everything better.

It feels like a build-up to _something_ , a something that is both incredible and meaningful.

-

They’re in one of their rare video calls when the camera suddenly swerves and he finds himself looking at the scrunched up face of—of _imp_ , world champion and fellow Samsung import to China. He knows imp, has played against him and heard all the rumors, but the last place he expects to really meet and talk with him is through a computer screen during the precious time he has with Hyukkyu.

"I know you," imp says, eyes narrowed and suspicious. "Fnatic, right?"

The camera moves again, until it shows both imp and Hyukkyu, who looks wholly embarrassed, face flushed as he fruitlessly pushes at imp's shoulder while speaking in rapid Korean.

"Yeah, I’m Rekkles," Martin replies. "And you're imp." And honestly, he’s still a little surprised to see imp on his computer screen. From what he’s learned from Hyukkyu, he’s pretty sure the LGD gaming house is in a different city than EDG’s.

"Why Skype Hyukkyu?" And even with his broken English, imp still manages to be incredibly intimidating. "Leak secrets?"

Hyukkyu finally manages to push imp out of the frame then, blush still in full force. "Sorry," he says. "He’s—um. Protective."

Possessive and territorial would be better words to describe him, in Martin’s opinion. Because even with Hyukkyu's face centered on his screen, he can see imp sneak his way back into the frame, laying his head on Hyukkyu's shoulder and scowling. "It's fine." Martin manages a laugh. "I mean, we _are_ technically rivals."

But so are Deft and imp, with the continuous comparisons people made of them as the starting carries of Samsung’s sister teams and now of the two star teams of China’s LPL. They had a rivalry Martin as Rekkles would never be able to reach, and anyway, the look in imp's eyes seems too intense for him to be angry about just League, especially when it’s still the off-season.

Hyukkyu laughs, shrugging with his free shoulder. “I should go,” he says. He points at imp and gives an exaggerated sigh. “Promised dinner.”

“That’s cool,” Martin says, watching as imp smirks at him, turning his head to nuzzle Hyukkyu’s neck. He gives a strained smile. “See you later, Hyukkyu.”

Hyukkyu smiles back, soft and so, so, sweet. “Bye, Martin.” And if Martin feels a little schadenfreude from imp’s outraged face—

Well, fair’s fair, and Martin’s completely fine with being petty. His crush lives thousands of miles away and the apparent rival for his affections is rubbing himself all over Hyukkyu like a cat marking his territory. He’ll take what he can get.

-

"Was that really necessary?" Hyukkyu asks crossly, glaring at Seungbin, who’s taken the time to make a nest of Hyukkyu's bed.

“You were ignoring me,” Seungbin says, pouting at Hyukkyu in his parody of a disgustingly cutesy voice. “I come all this way to see you and you prioritize some _foreigner_ over me?”

“Yes,” Hyukkyu says, smiling at Seungbin’s exaggerated outrage. “He’s nicer than you.”

Seungbin clasps a hand over his heart. “You always say such mean things,” he says. “What happened to the cute kid who used to look up to me?”

Hyukkyu rolls his eyes. “He grew up and realized his hero was nothing but a lecherous old man.”

-

Outside turns out to be cold, but it’s a refreshing chill compared to the heat inside the venue. It feels like the first breath of real air Hyukkyu’s had all day, and he’s suddenly glad Martin had suggested they duck out. “You wanted talk?” he asks.

Martin sits them down at a nearby bench before turning to him, eyes serious. “Hyukkyu,” he takes a breath. “You’re an amazing person and—and I like you.” He blushes, bringing a pretty red tint to his cheeks. “I need you to know that.”

Hyukkyu smiles awkwardly, licking his lips nervously. He’s always been embarrassed by praise—even at nineteen he still doesn’t know what to do with compliments other than nod politely and say thank you, and he’s not sure if that’s applicable here. “I like you, too,” he tries.

"No, Hyukkyu," Martin says. "I _like_ you."

And it's the way that he emphasizes his words that catches Hyukkyu this time. "Oh," he says blankly. "I—" he pauses and wonders what he can even say. "I didn't know."

Martin is bright red now, eyes on the ground as he shuffles from foot to foot. "I figured," he finally says. "That you and imp were—” He kicks a rock with his foot, sending it flying off to the side. "Well, I wanted to try." He finally looks up, smiling weakly at Hyukkyu. "And it'd be great if we could go back to friends and pretend I didn’t say anything."

"Wait," Hyukkyu says, before he really registers what he’s saying. "Seungbin and I aren't—" it's his turn to blush. "And it's not that I don't—I mean, you're very handsome. But—" he has no idea what he's even saying anymore, but the look on Martin's face is encouraging and he needs to make it to the end of this sentence if nothing else. "I've never thought about um. This." It sounds inadequate, so he clarifies, adding faintly, "Boys."

Martin's smile is a brilliant, blinding white. "That's fine," he says. "Think about it. I really like you, Hyukkyu." He messes up the pronunciation of Hyukkyu's name, but his smile is sweet enough to make up for it.

Hyukkyu offers his own hesitant smile in return. “Okay,” he says. “Um.” He shivers, not knowing if it’s truly cold outside or his body is desperate enough for a way out of this situation. “Inside?”

“Oh,” Martin says. “Right, of course.” He pulls open the door for Hyukkyu, smile still bright enough to light up the hallway.

It makes Hyukkyu’s stomach flutter, a little like when Cheonju drags him along to mixers or when he makes a really nice play in a game.

-

"What," Seungbin says flatly. "You and—" he grits his teeth. “ _Him_?"

His heart feels numb, like the moments after a devastating loss while the crowd breaks into applause around him, like the times Hyukkyu had tried to hug him after White’s defeats to Blue—the times he had tried to offer Seungbin _pity_.

"His name is Martin,” Hyukkyu says, frowning slightly at him. “And I want to try. He's handsome and kind—a decent person.”

“And I’m not.” Seungbin knows he’s being too transparent—he can almost taste the bitterness in his words on his tongue—but it’s never been in his personality to lie. He’s been with Hyukkyu since the very beginning, before he was truly imp or Hyukkyu was Deft, when they were two kids who had ambitions and pride with no titles to their names.

He needs to find his normal voice—he never had a chance with Hyukkyu, he has no reason for this gnawing feeling of loss—needs to tease Hyukkyu about this instead of falling into this pit of accusation. He aims for a pout and a simpering, “Leaving me for a younger, prettier man—how typical.”

_A kid who can’t even speak the same language_ , his mind whispers, _a kid who doesn’t even come close to deserving you_.

Hyukkyu doesn’t play along, though, instead cocking his head to the side. “You have a girlfriend.” He raises a hand to tug at the edge of Seungbin’s shirt. “I can tell you’re upset. What’s wrong?”

Seungbin lifts a hand to cup Hyukkyu’s neck, laying his head against Hyukkyu’s chest and reveling in the familiar sensation of comfort and warmth. He doesn’t want to give this to anyone—can’t let someone so casually stroll in and take what he’s worked so hard to build. “I don’t have a girlfriend,” he says, wondering if Hyukkyu can even hear the words being muttered into his shirt. “ _I_ wanted you.”

He feels himself abruptly pushed back, hands on his shoulders as Hyukkyu stares at him in confusion.  “You—” Hyukkyu says, startled. “You _wanted_ me?”

Seungbin lifts his head, tilting back to look Hyukkyu in the eye. “Is that really so hard to believe?” he finally asks. “That along with all the teasing, some of the flirting might’ve been real?”

“Yes,” Hyukkyu says. “You never, I didn’t, how—”

There’s never going to be a better time, not with Hyukkyu’s hands so loose around his shoulders and his face so close to Seungbin’s. He presses their lips together, staving off the half-sentences Hyukkyu is still trying to wrangle into coherence.

The kiss is badly aimed, more warm pressure than something truly intimate or romantic, but it proves its point. Hyukkyu breaks it off after a few seconds—a few seconds longer than Seungbin had expected him to allow—and gently pushes Seungbin away.

“Hyung,” he says, surprised. “

-

Martin’s just starting up his stream and checking his e-mail when he catches an unread message on his Skype. It’s from an unknown account named _sbimp,_ and all it reads is: “you win. gg.”

The profile picture is LGD’s Acorn glowing an incredibly unflattering shade of red, but Martin has a pretty damn good idea of who it actually is.

“thanks, wp.” He writes back, before minimizing it off his screen and turning on his webcam. 

-

Martin likes to think he's not a complete socially awkward idiot, so when he notices Hyukkyu looks noticeably glummer during their vidchat, he tries to be a good boyfriend and ask.

"Hey," he says, aiming for casual. "Everything all right?"

"Ah," Hyukkyu shrugs. "Yeah."

Well, that was a bit of a failure.

"You just look a little down," he tries instead, and, hoping he doesn't completely butcher the pronunciation: "Hwaiting!"

Hyukkyu cracks a smile at that. "Getting better," he says, and Martin can't help but feel a little pleased about that. "It’s Seungbin."  

"imp?" He asks; he still has a little trouble distinguishing between names, especially when he's used to hearing their gamer tags.

Hyukkyu nods and sighs. "He—he told me something. And I don't know what to do."  

-

"Look," Martin says, rubbing at the skin between his eyes. "I know we don't like each other, but I'm sure neither of us wants to force Hyukkyu to choose."

A small part of him isn't sure Hyukkyu would choose him anyway—long-distance is rough, and Martin doesn't know if there'll ever be a time where he and Hyukkyu will manage to be in the same place at the same time, especially not in the foreseeable future with their careers as they are. It’s only exacerbated by their difficulties with communication, when the language barrier between them seems more insurmountable than any physical distance.

Maybe they're meant to be together like everyone says, but the obstacles in their way seem unrealistically large.

-

Seungbin comes up to him, looking uncertainly contrite. "I'm sorry," he says to Hyukkyu's surprise. "I reacted poorly.”

"Seungbin—" he starts, but Seungbin cuts him off with a shake of his head.

"If you're happy, I need to move on." His hands are uncharacteristically clasped behind his back and his gaze never moves from the ground. "I placed an undue burden upon you."

"Seungbin," he protests. "I—you were never a burden. You could be annoying and frustrating but you were never a true nuisance.” Honestly, Hyukkyu has no idea what to say, just wants to make Seungbin’s frown disappear.

Seungbin finally looks up, eyes hard. “Don’t feed me pity,” he says. “All it does is fuel my impossible hopes.”

-

“Honestly,” Cheonju says in his weary and despairing way. “What was the point of teaching you about girls if you’re going to choose boys in the end?”

Hyukkyu frowns, protesting, “You think I _chose_ this?”

Cheonju shrugs. “How should I know, I haven’t seen much of you this year,” he says, continuing his long-suffering tone. “You never visit! And then when you do come, you ask me for favors and advice.” He sighs and shakes his head. “How you mistreat your hyung.”

“Cheonju,” he says, sinking into his chair until he’s nearly eye-level with Cheonju. “Hyung, please.”

Cheonju continues to eye him skeptically before finally sighing. “Fine,” he says. “But only because you look so desperate.”

“Thank you,” Hyukkyu says, sagging further into his chair with relief. “I’m so lost, I don’t even know what to do.”

He feels a hand ruffling his hair, and he’s hit with a bolt of bone-deep nostalgia. He misses Blue and the rest of Samsung—the warm feeling of _home_ and the easy intimacy between his teammates. “Well who are these fools trying to pursue our adorable alpaca?” Cheonju asks, hands moving to playfully pinch at Hyukkyu’s cheeks.

Hyukkyu brushes the hands away from his face and sighs. “You have to promise not to tell anyone.”

Cheonju rolls his eyes. “Your secret boyfriends are safe with me.”

He leans in, wondering for a half-second if this is in any way a good idea before he blurts out, “It’s Martin and Seungbin. I mean, Martin—Rekkles asked first, but then—” he shifts his gaze away. “But then Seungbin confessed.”

Cheonju doesn’t seem fazed about Seungbin at all, instead raising his eyebrow and asking, “Rekkles? That Fnatic kid who idolizes you?”

“Yeah. I—” Hyukkyu thinks of Martin’s sweet smile, the warm affection in his voice, the sheer adoration in his gaze. “He’s nice. But Seungbin!” All of his memories of Seungbin are tinged with contrary feelings—with competitive jealousy and warmth, with Seungbin’s need to tease and push Hyukkyu while still always ensuring he knew he was cared for and loved. “He’s—”

“He’s Seungbin,” Cheonju finishes for him. “He’s cocky, he’s annoying, and he likes you.”

Hyukkyu blinks, before realization dawns upon him. “You knew,” he accuses, feeling a little betrayed. “And you didn’t warn me?”

“I suspected,” Cheonju corrects. “But he had that girlfriend for a while.” He sighs and shakes his head. “And I thought it was a phase.”

“Well it’s _not_.” Hyukkyu lets his face fall into his hands, wearily rubbing at his eyes. “How long has it been? From the very beginning?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Cheonju tilts back in his chair and shrugs. “You’d have to ask him. But it’s not exactly recent—I’d say at least since around when we moved from MVP to Samsung. You were always his favorite.”

-

Cheonju’s been shooting him knowing glances for the past few hours they’ve been in the practice room, these little small smirks that put Seungbin on edge. After losing a solo queue game to the stupidity of his teammates, he finally breaks. “What?”

“I remember you telling me one time when we were drunk,” Cheonju says, “But I always thought it was some alcohol-induced dream.”

Seungbin frowns and crosses his arms defensively. He does have a habit of rambling while drunk, but he usually doesn’t reveal anything too serious. “What?” he repeats edgily. “This whole mysterious act you’re putting on isn’t attractive at all.”

“I had lunch with Hyukkyu the other day, after our game.” After Seungbin had beaten a quick retreat out of the studio and dragged Hojong with him. “It was a very enlightening conversation.”

Seungbin flicks his glance back to screen, wishing his queue timer to disappear and whisk him into a game. “Oh,” he says unenthusiastically, “And how was our favorite little alpaca?”

“He’s been talking a lot with that European kid from Fnatic, Rekkles.” Cheonju smiles that stupid slick grin of his—the one he gets when he thinks he’s being really clever, the one that irritates Seungbin so fucking much because he hates feeling he’s at a disadvantage. “What’re your thoughts?”

“He’s passable,” he says grudgingly. “There are worse ADs.”

“He’s quite suave, don’t you think?” Cheonju asks. “Hyukkyu seems pretty smitten, anyway.”

Seungbin doesn’t let his gaze leave his screen, saying flatly, “Really.”

“Yeah,” Cheonju says. “He told me you didn’t react very well to the news.”

Seungbin glances around the practice room, slightly gratified to see that it’s truly empty. It’s not like anyone else on their team understands Korean, but it doesn’t hurt to check for privacy. “Yes,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’m jealous.” The queue timer is still mocking him, counting up the minutes. “Go ahead and laugh.”

“Seungbin.” Cheonju’s voice is gentle enough that Seungbin finally glances over, bristling at the pity he finds on his friend’s face. “I won’t laugh. I’m sorry.”

“God, don’t.” He exits out of his queue with a brutal punch to his keyboard, pushing himself up out of his chair and storming to the door. “I need to smoke.”

-

Cheonju wraps an arm around his shoulders, fingers playing with the ends of Seungbin's hair. "Hey," he says softly. "You okay?"  

Seungbin snorts, but shifts so he can comfortably rest his head on Cheonju's shoulder. "No," he says. "I feel like shit.”

  
“Stop smoking on an empty stomach then,” Cheonju says cheerfully, pinching Seungbin’s cigarette from his fingers and stubbing it against the stairs.

“What are you, my mother?” Seungbin asks crossly, but he doesn’t bother fishing another cigarette from his pack. All of the brands he’s tried in China have been rancid, and if weren’t for the pull of nicotine and the easy excuse it makes to escape awkward situations, he’d have stopped smoking already.

“He’s a kid,” Cheonju says. “He has no idea what he wants right now.”

“Oh, please. He wants some tall kid with nice hair that worships at his feet,” Seungbin says. “I can’t even blame him.”

Cheonju sighs. “You sound so pathetic. Where’s that aggression you’re so famous for?”

“I’m not mauling kids on the street,” Seungbin says. “Count that as a win.”

-

Seungbin’s favorite pastime is drinking. It’s his number one hobby, the thing he most looks forward to apart from destroying people in game. Sure, it’s not the healthiest habit, but he plays video games for a living, spends twelve hours a day staring at a computer screen and ruining his wrists, so he’ll take what he can get.

And after his stupid confession to Hyukkyu—after staring at his stunned face and listening to the half-stuttered questions and apologies—he couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do. He spends the train ride back to Hangzhou morosely nursing his way through a bottle of soju, sneaking sips out of a paper bag when the other passengers look away, before stumbling his way to a nearby bar when the hour-long ride of torture finally ends.

He doesn’t remember using his phone or sending any texts, but he must’ve because somewhere into his third bottle of soju he hears a devastatingly familiar voice in Korean. “What the fuck.”

“Sehyeooooong,” Seungbin croons, tipping his bottle of soju back to finish it off. “Took you long enough.”

“You texted me ten minutes ago.” Sehyeong narrows his eyes. “And what did I tell you about drinking alone?”

“I’m not!” Seungbin puts on his best smile, fluttering his eyelashes at Sehyeong. “I’m drinking with you!”

Sehyeong sighs in that long-suffering way of his that makes Seungbin think he’s really an old man inside. “You’re paying.”

Seungbin waves a hand dismissively. “Yeah, okay. It’s one of the only good things about this place. The money’s easy and the drinks are cheap.”

“Your loyalty is astounding,” Sehyeong says, eyebrows raised. “I’m surprised you still have your job with that kind of attitude.”

“Like you’re any better, Jayce support.” Seungbin knows he’s pushing it, but alcohol’s always had a habit of loosening his tongue, and he can’t apply the self-restraint needed to keep his mouth closed. “They move Inkyu top and you troll your games; why else do we stay when they’ve already stripped us of our dignity?”

“Seungbin, you’re drunk,” Sehyeong says flatly. “Don’t say things you’ll regret in the morning.”

Seungbin laughs bitterly. “I already have,” he says. “Didn’t I mention? I confessed to our stupidly adorable alpaca, who rejected me for some second-tier AD _foreigner_. How could I possibly make it worse? I can’t even bear to look at him anymore.”

Sighing, Sehyeong drops into the chair next to him, clapping a hand on Seungbin’s shoulder. “I would criticize your impulsiveness and disrespect, but you’re so damn pathetic.” He signals down another round of drinks for them both before resuming patting Seungbin on the back. “If anything, you’re a better AD than that kid.” And he doesn’t mention a thing about failing in groups at Worlds, so Seungbin counts it as a win. “But their Worlds feature was pretty compelling.”

Seungbin scowls. “He found Hyukkyu at the top of the ladder; I found him while he was still flailing at the bottom.”

“Yes, yes.” Sehyeong gestures with a hand. “He’s separated by an ocean and you’ve never been more than an hour away. He’s barely even hugged Hyukkyu while you’ve scent-marked him for life.” He shrugs. “But what it really comes down to is the fact that he asked first. He risked the all-in while you played it safe.”

“That’s a terrible comparison, this is nothing like League,” Seungbin says, grumpily turning back to his drink. “And anyway, I always flash in for the kill.”

Sehyeong raises an eyebrow, and even Seungbin can hear the hollowness of his own words. “Maybe in game, where you fail half the time and force your team to scramble to save you,” he says dryly. “But you’ve known Hyukkyu three years, Seungbin. You’ve had plenty of time to plan your positioning.”

“Stop using League comparisons,” Seungbin complains. “And stop with this dumb wisdom.” He slumps into his seat, resting his head against the table. “Should I have risked losing what we have—all on the slim chance he might feel something more than reluctant tolerance for me?”

“It’s too late for what-ifs,” Sehyeong says. “Figure out what you can do now to salvage the game.”

He shoves at Sehyeong’s shoulder, but Sehyeong just smiles and passes him another bottle of soju. “You’re only a year older,” he complains. “Where is this even coming from?”

“Well, when everyone around me is so immature, it’s not too hard,” Sehyeong says with a smirk, prompting another shove from Seungbin.

“Why did I even call you?” Seungbin says. “You always get so smug and self-important.”

Sehyeong clinks their drinks together in an impromptu toast. “Only with you.” He tips his back for a long swallow before adding, “Good luck.”


	2. kasing vs. the world, eulcs gay chicken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah yes, the time I was caught up with eu lcs, it feels like a long time and maybe that's because it's been three years....at least kasing is back
> 
> this was supposed to be kasing/hjarnan, rip 5.5k, rip g2 emperor/hybrid

There are three undisputable facts about the EU LCS:

One, EU > NA when it comes to all things League—raw mechanical skill, macro play and rotations around the map, shotcalling, pick/ban, champion pool diversity, anything and everything to do with the game. (Okay, not actually, but in the things that matter, the things that create _wins_ and lead to semifinal finishes on the international stage? Yeah, definitely.)

Two, as the true king of technical difficulties, there will be at least five pauses in the first weekend of each split.

Three, interacting with other players just ends in one giant game of gay chicken interspersed with stupid jokes.

 

So stupid shit happens—like Petter interrupting an otherwise productive conversation about solo queue between him and Martin by swinging an arm around his shoulders and yelling, “Princess, _please_ don’t leave me for another ADC” right into his ear—and it’s normal.

Raymond laughs as he flips him off and shoves away his arm. “Get me a drink and I’ll think about it,” he says, and can’t help smiling as Petter makes exaggerated bowing motions as he leaves. “Make me a sandwich while you’re at it, too!”

When he turns back to Martin, he’s laughing as well. “Does he always call you that?”

“Trust me,” Raymond says with a sigh. “If I could get him to stop, I would. He still replays that damn clip every few days.”

-

“Don’t mind me,” Martin says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m just watching.”

-

Luka is the living embodiment of gay chicken, always flirty and brave enough to follow through on his jokes. It's how Ray ends up with him in his lap, helplessly laughing while Luka tucks his head against his shoulder.

"He's more experienced than you," Luka says, an obvious jab at Glenn who crosses his arms and rolls his eyes. "He'll treat me right."

"He doesn't know you as well as me," Glenn says in monotone. "I never thought you'd be so superficial."

Luka wraps his arms around Ray's neck, making loud kissing noises as his face comes dangerously close to touching skin. "Oh god," Ray says. "Please don't let me come between young love."

Glenn shrugs and let's out a long-suffering sigh. "I couldn't control his manwhore tendencies if I tried."

"You like Kangyoon more than me, anyway," Luka says. "I need to find someone who'll put me first."

"Then you're out of luck," says a voice from the side. Ray turns to see Petter standing with hands akimbo. "Princess loves me best."

Luka winks at him. "Only because he hasn't seen what I can do." He tucks his head against Ray's shoulder again.


	3. '16 Immortals gen, fourth of july shenanigans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love(d) the 2016 Immortals line-up (huni/reignover/pobelter/wildturtle/adrian, for those who are new), and I'm still a little sad they separated as they did. I really enjoyed writing this (I think a lot of it was actually on the car ride from LA --> SF?) and it was surprisingly wholesome
> 
> There was also a surprise pairing at the end, but I'm benevolent enough to spare your eyes and mind and only e needs to know what it was and honestly, idek what the fuck we were smoking to come up with it

"Guys," Jason says, then more urgently, as he realizes the rest of his team is still distracted by dinner. _"Guys."_

And Yeujin's always been the one with the most sympathy on the team, so he doesn't leave Jason hanging. "Yes?"

"It's Fourth of July next week."

This time, Yeujin does leave him hanging because—okay?

"Cool?" Seunghoon tries. "I thought your birthday was in February.”

"It's Independence Day," Jason says, almost offended. "America, yo."

He and Seunghoon exchange glances. "Oh," Yeujin says. "Uh."

Adrian blinks. “Jason, aren’t you from Canada?”

Jason ignores Adrian, and continues to stare at them disbelievingly, until Eugene sighs and seems to take pity.

"Y'know," he says dryly. "Something tells me they haven't spent the past eighteen years of their lives being indoctrinated with American patriotism."

Jason deflates a little. "Oh, yeah." He perks up after a moment. "Which means we need to make this year's fucking _awesome_.”

Eugene immediately splutters, talking at Jason about "we have _practice_ and LCS!" and "this house doesn't even belong to us" while Jason ignores him in favor of psyching Seunghoon up about stories of FIREWORKS and BARBECUE and sloppy drinking. Yeujin spies Adrian leaning back in his chair and just smirking.

The troll.

-

"Well if we were going to do it right, we'd be spending the whole day at Disneyland cutting kids in line for rides before catching the fireworks," Eugene says, "But unfortunately, we have practice. So instead—" He waves a hand to his side, where there's an old-fashioned grill (no, really, a real grill, not a girl) with a stack of hot dog and hamburger buns piled on top.

"Meat!" Seunghoon yells, because he's always been incredibly easy to please. His eyes slide over to the side where Jason and Adrian are practically cackling over some boxes labeled with giant skulls. He looks back to Eugene, eyes so wide Yeujin's a little afraid for his health. "No, that isn't—"

Eugene shrugs and smiles. "No real Fourth of July is complete without them."

"FIRE!" Seunghoon immediately races over, bullying Jason and Adrian away to start digging through the boxes himself.

Eugene laughs, raising an arm to rub at the back of his head as he looks over at Yeujin. "Let's hope we manage to keep the house in one piece, huh?"

Yeujin just sighs and shakes his head while he listens to Jason and Adrian try to explain what each firecracker is and how, no, Seunghoon, please don't set them off right now. "Where'd you even get them?"

"We're in California—in _LA_ on July 4th, I'm surprised people on the streets aren't just handing them out."

-

Seunghoon's an optimistic guy, loves good food and good company as much as any other person. So when Jason starts talking about holding an awesome rager, he's completely on board.

When said rager includes firecrackers along with the usual fare of underage drinking, he takes it in stride. He's a simple guy when it comes down to it—he sees fireworks and alcohol, he ~~upvotes~~ celebrates accordingly. This party's going to be beyond awesome—it's going to be the thing of legends by the time he's done with it.

"Hey, Seunghoon!" Jason waves at him with a spatula from the grill where he's unloading patties to barbecue. "Want to learn how to grill the _American_ way?" His eyebrows waggle and Seunghoon laughs and skips over.

"The Korean way's so, _so_ much better," he says, but he watches Jason twirl his spatula obediently. "Meat's better, too."

"Yeah, well." Jason puffs himself up before he eventually just shrugs. "Okay, you're right." He leans in conspiratorially, whispering in Seunghoon's ear. "Next time we'll have our own secret stash of superior meat. You marinate, I'll grill."

Which one, sounds amazing and Seunghoon is totally on board and two, means there's _going_ to be a next time which is also super cool, so yeah. Seunghoon's pretty psyched as he nods yes.

-

Eugene takes one look at the tower of fireworks Jason and Seunghoon are currently crawling on and immediately shrieks.

"SHUT IT DOWN," he yells at them, waving at the giant monstrosity with both arms. "That's not just going to blow up our house—it'll take the whole block with us!"

"You know," Adrian says to his side, sounding much calmer, almost _amused_ , "I think we have more fireworks than we started with."

"Yeah, we went out to buy more. Someone left these amazing schematics on the kitchen table, so—" Jason high-fives Seunghoon, doing absolutely nothing to take down the tower of death he's made. "We've spent like two hours building this."

Eugene glances at Adrian, who hasn't stopped his almost Buddha-still silence and smile. "Why," Eugene says, whispered and broken. " _Why_.”

"Some people like to watch the world burn," Adrian tells him, and Eugene can practically see fire in his eyes. "Nothing personal."

-

Eugene comes home to Jason and Seunghoon draping American flag-patterned cloth over every conceivably flat surface in the yard. Yeujin is reluctantly tying a string of tiny American flags to one of the pillars.

"I feel like a traitor to my country," he says to Eugene as soon as he sees him. "Where did all this stuff even come from?"

Jason's head immediately whips over. "Don't question Amurrica," he says, eyes a little manic. Seunghoon nods along, good-natured as always even as he drapes an American flag blanket Eugene has definitely never seen along Yeujin's shoulders. "Every good American has this much stuff stored in their closets for this day."

“Aren’t you from Canada?” Eugene says, only to be ignored by the rest of his team.

"We bought them from Costco," Adrian offers from the side. He's busy stirring two punch bowls of mysterious red and blue liquid respectively, and Eugene resolves to try neither of them.

Adrian must sense his speculative stare, because he just smiles. "Food coloring," he explains. "It's just raspberry Smirnoff and UV Blue." Which would explain the almost frightening bright blue tinge of the right bowl of punch.

But just under the table, Eugene spies an empty bottle of Everclear. Yeah, just vodka his ass.

"Don't drink it," he hears Yeujin whisper from his side. "I swear I saw him cackling as he made it."

-

He ends up drinking it.

The blue one tastes like blue raspberry and the red one like regular raspberry, and the world is spinning and fun.

That's probably why he doesn't notice when TSM and CLG make it to the party or that Zac and Peter have him flanked on both sides.

"Eugene!" They both yell, both wearing gigantic, forced smiles, leaving him to look back and forth between them as dread builds in his stomach. There's no good way out of this, this may just be his last day on Earth.

"The notorious P O B," Zac says with fake laugh, slapping his shoulder with enough strength for it to almost hurt. "What up?"

"Eugene! My favorite NA Asian and fellow CLG dropout, who would've known you'd be here—at the Immortals House for this Immortals-held party." Peter wraps an arm around his shoulders. "How've you been, my boy?"

Eugene looks over at where Adrian stands, watching him while casually sipping at his drink. Help me, he mouths, and Adrian, evil devil spawn that he is, just lifts his cup and tips it at him.

-

Here's the thing, Adrian doesn't _actually_ want the world to burn.

So after watching Eugene squirm for another five minutes under Zach and Peter's tug of war, he walks by to pull him out. "House emergency," he tosses back as Zach and Peter ignore them to continue arguing. They get all the way into the house before Adrian lets go and smiles back at him. Eugene can't seem to decide whether to be angry that Adrian took so long to save him or grateful he was even saved at all, and Adrian lets him sit with that mix of expressions that leaves him looking more constipated than anything.

"You're welcome," he says over his shoulder, walking back outside. "Try not to get caught again."

If Zach is here, that means the rest of CLG must be, too, and it's not like Adrian's avoiding anyone on that team in particular—but he's totally avoiding someone on that team in particular.

 

“Who’s my favorite Korean? That’s not even fair, dude!” He can hear Peter yell from the other room. “Like, we were so busy with tryouts, I didn’t even get to meet up with that many!”

Teasing a drunk Peter and forcing him to confess all his secrets is one of Adrian’s favorite pastimes—but he’s not in the mood today, so he just leans against the wall of the hallway and eavesdrops on the conversation.

“It’s okay, Peter,” Jason says. “You’re in a safe space, tell us which Korean you fucked.”

“Whoa, hey, I didn’t fuck any!”

“Yeah,” Soren adds. “He just blew one.”

“No, I didn—“ At this point, Adrian’s pretty sure Peter’s just given up. “My favorite Korean is Yeujin, okay! He’s cute and shit.”

There’s another round of laughs as Yeujin asks, “So, like, does that mean I get a blowjob?”

-

Yeujin spends the party with the American flag blanket draped along his shoulders like a cape, pinned together with a button that proudly reads: BIRTHDAY BOY!! in patriotic red, white, and blue. Oddly enough, it matches the cape that Changseok comes dressed in, and they end up posing together as people snap pictures, Changseok with his arms akimbo like some old-fashioned superhero.

Yeujin's sure these pictures will end up on Reddit somehow, and he hopes the meme it gets stuck with will be a good one at least.


	4. pob/darshan & '16 immortals, pob the teenage witch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was inevitable I write a high school au for league at some point, accidental love potion high school au, but high school au nonetheless
> 
> and look, it was hard coming up with someone for pob to have cute scenes with back in 2016, and darshan is a true cutie

Eugene J—his middle name is _not_ Justice, for fuck’s sake—Park never aspired to be a witch.

Honestly, he never aspired to be much at all. Unfortunately, life didn’t really give a fuck about what he wanted.

- 

On the morning of his fourteenth birthday, Eugene accidentally set his alarm clock on fire. The rest of the day didn’t get much better.

And, his parents being great, amazing parents, decided that where better for their son to start his magical studies than at ~~his cousins/family friend/relation still not uncovered~~ Jangsik and Yoonsup’s place? Their place, that may or may not be located in a nice neighborhood and a better high school than Eugene’s last.

So he ends up staying at Jangsik and Yoonsup’s place, and, you know, no big deal, except his parents neglected to tell him that _he’s a witch_ and are currently living and working all the way across the country and are too busy to talk to him for any significant amount of time to explain anything.

His life is a movie and he doesn’t even know whether to laugh or cry.

The high school’s not so bad, though, and he makes friends after a growing pain period. Jangsik and Yoonsup are more lenient about things, too, letting him stay up till terribly shitty times of the night to play video games, and that ends up all fine, too.

-

“Eugene!” He hears from behind him, and he turns out of reflex before he can even think through how oddly familiar the voice sounds.

All he sees is some attractive Indian dude standing in the middle of the hallway smiling at him. Literally no one else is even paying Eugene the slightest bit of attention, hell, most of the people—especially the girls—are busy staring at the stranger instead.

And seriously, Eugene completely understands why. Tall, dark, and handsome has a really sweet smile.

“Eugene,” attractive stranger guy says again, and yeah, that’s the voice Eugene heard. But that begs the question: how does this guy know his name? “Long time no see, man!”

“Um,” he says, vaguely unsettled and confused. Did he meet this person somewhere? He doubts it, because how could he have forgotten this _face_? “Hi, do I know you?”

Attractive stranger guy blinks and cocks his head to the side. “I’m Darshan—Darshan Upadhyaya? We used to go to school together—don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me already.”

Eugene used to know a Darshan before Darshan had moved away and Eugene ended up staying at Jangsik and Yoonsup’s. They had been best friends all through elementary school, had terrorized their teachers and classmates with their pranks and spent their afternoons intensely playing video games at Eugene’s place because his parents were busy working and they had the whole house to themselves. But that Darshan had looked completely different—small and skinny with a smile too big for his face and clothes too baggy for his frame. Nothing like the rugged stubble this boy rocks like a star, the piercing eyes and the easy confidence in his stance.

“Darshan?” he gasps more than asks, because the longer he looks, the more he can see the old Darshan he used to know in this stranger. “What’re you doing here?”

Darshan laughs, deep and rich and lovely. “I just transferred, today’s my first day.” He smiles, teeth bright and white, and something in Eugene’s mind breaks a little. “Do me a solid and show me around?” He holds out his hands and somehow makes helplessness attractive. “I’m completely lost, man, this place is like a maze.”

“Uh,” he says, a little bewildered. “Yeah, sure.”

Darshan wraps an arm around his shoulders, slips it around like it belongs there, like they’re still the best of friends and hadn’t lost contact for six years. Eugene just hopes to god his face isn’t red enough for Darshan to notice, that Darshan doesn’t notice how he’s barely listening to the things he says as he leads them through the hallway.

“What room?” he asks, both relieved and regretful when Darshan removes his arm to dig for his schedule in his backpack.

“I think I have English?” he says, unsure until he manages to remove a crumpled piece of paper from his bag. “Oh, here it is.”

He hands it to Eugene, who takes careful notice not to react when Darshan’s fingers overlap with his own. His skin is soft, his nails neatly manicured, and Eugene should really be looking at the schedule Darshan’s just handed him and not his hands.

“Yeah, you have English,” he says. “I’m on my way to my own English class, actually, I can show you where it is, and, oh—” He stares at the schedule and wonders if he’s dreaming. “We have history and chem together.”

Eugene’s almost entirely sure he’ll never get sick of Darshan’s smile. “Sick!” He offers up his phone, and Eugene stares dumbly at it. “Give me your number, so we can meet up for lunch or something?” And how is Eugene supposed to say no to the pure earnestness in Darshan’s voice? “I really do want to catch up, but maybe sometime when we aren’t almost late for class.”

He takes Darshan’s phone from his hands, taps his number in a daze while he leads them in the direction of the English classrooms. “Yeah, sure,” he says. “Cool.”

-

He makes it to his own English class with minutes to spare, still slightly stunned as he collapses into his seat. The rest of his friends are gathered around already, and Jason easily scoops Eugene’s notebook and folder out of his backpack with practiced ease.

“Thanks Eugene,” he tosses out, while Seunghoon rushes over to Jason’s desk to join him in copying Eugene’s homework.

Yeujin eyes the two of them critically before he sighs. Getting the two to do their own homework is a chore even Yeujin hasn’t managed to succeed at in the past two years. “Have you heard about the new transfer student?”

Eugene tries not to startle, playing it cool and keeping his face calm while his friends start to gossip. About Darshan. _Darshan,_ who he used to compete with to see who could fly highest on the swings, who would split the cost of an ice cream bar from the grocery store so they could eat it together without their parents knowing.

 

“Yeah, I overheard some girls talking about him,” Jason says with a shrug. “He’s _super_ dreamy, apparently,” he adds, emphasizing the super with an extended valley-girl lisp.

“He’s from Canada,” Adrian offers. “This morning, he apparently dived to stop this one girl from falling or something.”

Seunghoon frowns. “That’s weird,” he says. “Why would you do that?”

“Because he’s nice and _Canadian_.” Adrian shrugs, crossing his arms along his chest. “I dunno, but the girls are really into him now.”

“Someone sounds jealous,” Jason says, pitching his voice just so. “What, afraid some guy’s going to steal away all your hunnies?”

“Never say that word again,” Yeujin says, while Eugene sighs, “And they say chivalry is dead.”

Adrian elbows at Eugene, mock-hurt as usual. Seunghoon just tilts his head to the side. “I still don’t get it.”

“Just copy your homework before the teacher gets here,” Yeujin says. He turns to Eugene to share a commiserating glance. “Kids these days.”

-

Skinny, awkward Darshan had become _this_ , somehow.

"He's beautiful," Yeujin whispers, and it's not like Eugene can even disagree.

Adrian looks over at Yeujin and then back at Darshan a little bitterly. “I don’t see what’s so good about him.” 

- 

As much as Zaq is technically his cat—as much as a cat can really be owned, honestly—ever since Eugene accidentally turned him human, he’s been independent and as much his own person as can be. He still switches between forms often enough,

He’s more Eugene’s best friend and thoughtful confidant, which is infinitely more helpful than the friendly if aloof cat he used to be.

 

-

Eugene’s problem with chem lab isn’t one of the usual ones that his friends complain about. He doesn’t think it’s too tedious (Adrian) or too stringent (Seunghoon) or needlessly complicated (Jason and Yeujin), it’s just that Eugene’s a witch.

And witches have magic.

So whenever he stirs or pours anything, he has to make a conscious effort to restrain his magic to avoid creating some magical potion. Focusing had never been a problem before, but his chem partner had also never been as attractive or distracting as Darshan.

Darshan who laughs as he talks to Eugene, who furrows his brow in concentration when he measures out compounds—Eugene stirs their latest concoction less than three times and doesn’t notice the sparkly tinge the solution takes on.

“You’re really good at this,” Darshan tells him, raising his goggles to rub at his eyes with a hand. “I lucked out, huh.”

“Nah, I’m really not that amazing.” Eugene says, trying not to fuck anything up as he measures out some more powder into a weigh boat, almost flinching when Darshan places a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you kidding?” Darshan waves at the mass. “Look at that perfect 2.00 grams you weighed out.”

“Massed out,” he corrects almost on autopilot, “And that’s really not that hard—”

Darshan snatches the weigh boat out of his hand to pour into their mixture. “Come on, I know you’re really into this whole modest, totally-normal guy shtick. But won’t you let me compliment you a _little_ , at least?”

“Uh, well.” Eugene can feel his ears burn and hopes beyond all measure that they’re not a flaming red right now. “That runs counter to my entire personality so, no.”

-

To be fair, it starts off subtly.

Someone catches Josh giving Sam a blowjob in one of the locker room showers, and well. There had always been _rumors_ , so Eugene doesn’t really pay it that much attention.

Sam dotes on Josh a little more, has an arm slung around his shoulders while Josh bitches at him as usual, and that seems to be the only difference. And maybe Josh is less of an ass than usual, actually smiling and making an effort to be a positive human being—all good things in Eugene’s opinion, so he doesn't pay it any mind. A mistake, but an understandable one.


	5. faker/cpt jack - awkward coffee shop/university au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cpt jack/faker, truly a classic
> 
> also faker & deft, a cute pair of kids who may or may not have gone to school together but I like the idea of it enough to push the narrative in fic

Sanghyeok is nineteen, a first year at one of the top universities in Seoul, and an achiever of many distinguished awards. None of these things stop him from being dragged around like a sack of potatoes by his childhood friend, and now roommate.

“Study here, study here!” Hyukkyu tugs him into the café, shoving him into one of the couches before running behind the counter. “We can hang out while I work! And then we can walk home together.”

Sanghyeok sits reluctantly, eyeing his surroundings with suspicion. “Just one day."

Hyukkyu frowns. “But then who will I walk home with the other times?"

Sanghyeok raises an eyebrow. “How long do you expect me to stay here?” 

“Until my shift is over, six hours from now.” Hyukkyu bats his eyelashes at him, pouting in that stupidly adorable way that has people falling head over heels. “Stay for me, please?”

Six hours from now will bring them well into dinnertime, and Sanghyeok's sure Hyukkyu will drag him along to eat with his friends that Sanghyeok doesn’t know. He’s known Hyukkyu since primary school, but his new heavy-handed insistence on socializing Sanghyeok is really just tiring.

So maybe Sanghyeok spends an unhealthy amount of time in their apartment staring at his laptop. Whatever.

"Fine," he says begrudgingly, because even after knowing Hyukkyu for a decade, he hasn't developed the ability to reject him yet, and given enough time, Sanghyeok will inevitably agree to whatever Hyukkyu says. Doing his work in a café will only be somewhat more uncomfortable than working at home, anyway, but in an effort to pretend he has any bartering power in this relationship, "Free coffee."

"Refills are free." Hyukkyu smiles brightly at him. "But I'll give you snacks or something."

"Great," Sanghyeok says, and blinks as a brown cat jumps onto his table, nudging his hand with its head.

"Oh, I forgot to mention," Hyukkyu says unconvincingly, because he's evil and has this planned from the beginning. "We have cats."

-

More specifically, there are three cats: Guodong, Douhua, and Mango, who wander around like they own the space. Their owners do, in fact, own the café, but that’s beside the point.

Instead, the three cats take it upon themselves to see that Sanghyeok gets the least possible amount of work done, sitting on his laptop and swatting at his hands with their paws and an innumerable amount of cat things that are incredibly frustrating but just adorable enough that he can’t find it in himself to be mad at them for. They meow at him, climb up his shoulders to purr right into his ears, push his papers and textbooks off the table whenever possible.

The only time he ever manages a moment of peace is when they distract themselves with bothering another person in the café—which usually ends up being one poor part-timer who fills their food and water bowls and is also the one person who seems even more clueless about cats than Sanghyeok.

Hyukkyu finds the whole thing hilarious, teasing him about his inexplicable affinity for animals on their way home. He also drags Sanghyeok out to dinner, where he meets Dayoon~ie and Wonseok~ie and Sanghyeok pretends to be a perfectly normal, well-adjusted individual.

And against his better judgment, he goes back to the café with Hyukkyu the next day—and the day after that, and—he gets used to the constant feline distraction, actually enjoys the cozy atmosphere of the place.

-

“You’re Hyukkyu’s friend, right?”

Sanghyeok looks up from his computer, pencil still between his teeth as he hesitantly nods. It’s the guy from behind the counter, the cat whisperer who hands him his coffee and passes by every so often to clean tables. “Yeah?”

The guy flushes slightly, raising a hand to scratch behind his head. “I don’t mean to be nosy or anything. Just—you know, Hyukkyu doesn’t work today.”

Sanghyeok blinks. “And I’m still here,” he says slowly. “Is that okay…?”

“Of course! I just—” The guy sighs and shakes his head. “Let me try that again. Hi, I’m Hyungwoo,” he says, offering a hand. “I wanted to introduce myself.”

“Oh, uh.” Sanghyeok awkwardly takes the hand to shake. “Sanghyeok.”

The handshake goes on for a second too long, turning the space between them that much more uncomfortable before Hyungwoo finally breaks it off. “Well, I’ll let you study,” he says. “I’m going to, uh.” He makes a little motion toward the counter. “Get back to work.”

Sanghyeok watches him walk back out of some morbid curiosity, still at loss about what just happened to him at all. One of the cats threads its way between Hyungwoo’s legs, and he stops to scratch it behind the ears. “Okay,” he says, minutes too late for Hyungwoo to have actually heard him.

-

“I met one of your coworkers the other day,” Sanghyeok says. “Hyungwoo? It was a little weird.”

“Really?” Hyukkyu blinks and tilts his head. “He’s a little awkward with strangers, I guess. Makes killer coffee, though.”

“Oh,” Sanghyeok says, not really sure what to do with the new information. “Cool.”

“He goes to our school, actually,” Hyukkyu continues. “He’s also in the engineering department, I’m a little surprised you haven’t seen him around.”

“Oh,” Sanghyeok repeats. “Huh.”

“But, then again,” Hyukkyu continues. “You spend so much of your time holed up in your room, so maybe it isn’t a surprise.”

“Yes, I’m a bit of a shut in,” Sanghyeok says. “No, it doesn’t bother me.” Hyukkyu frowns at him and Sanghyeok sighs. “I’ll go out to dinner with you and your friends.”

His life really would be easier and better if he didn’t care so much about making Hyukkyu happy. Instead, he watches Hyukkyu smile with a bit of fondness, and wonders if this is what having a little brother is like.  

-

Hyungwoo turns out to be a TA for one of his classes, looking exponentially more put together in his casual clothes while passing out worksheets in class.

“Hi,” he says, taking one of the sheets from Hyungwoo’s hand.

Hyungwoo blinks, staring at Sanghyeok like he can’t believe his eyes. “You’re—” He looks down at the sheets in his hand before looking right back up at Sanghyeok. “Oh.”

Sanghyeok can already feel himself being shoved away by the line of students behind him so he just shrugs helplessly. “I’ll see you around.”

He turns around a few moments later, finally clear of the crowd, to find Hyungwoo still looking at him. But as soon as their eyes meet, Hyungwoo immediately flicks his gaze back to the papers in his hand, handing them out again instead of letting the students take them from the pile by his side.

-

"I'm not exactly sure what you want with me," Sanghyeok says, baffled. "But you seem very nice, and I can put in a good word to Hyukkyu for you?"

Hyungwoo's eyes widen and he coughs. "What?" He asks. "No, I'm not interested in Hyukkyu. I'm—" his cheeks flush a flattering red. "I'm interested in _you._ ”

"Oh." Sanghyeok pauses, not quite sure what to say. "I see."

They sit there in silence, avoiding eye contact and pretending that the awkwardness isn't bothering them both.

"I'll just," Hyungwoo makes a move to stand. "I'm sorry for bothering you."

"No," Sanghyeok says quickly. "It's okay. I'm just, uh. Processing." It's not that he's foreign to romantic interest; it's just that his first and only crush had been on the university student who taught his cram school class back in secondary school. Needless to say, Junggyun had never seen him as anything more than a little kid with too much hero worship.

“Processing,” Hyungwoo repeats, and Sanghyeok nods. “Um.”

-

It’d be a waste to not ask him for help on their problem set. Or that’s the justification Sanghyeok uses on himself when he stands up and approaches Hyungwoo by the counter.

“If you’re not busy,” he starts. “I was wondering if you could help me with this problem?”

“Always,” Hyungwoo says, looking at him with wide eyes while he overfills one of the coffee mugs on the counter.

And it’s honestly a little flattering—a little _cute_ how flustered Hyungwoo seems to be while interacting with Sanghyeok.

-

There's a limit to how seriously Sanghyeok can treat someone when they have a cat hanging off their shoulder.

For reasons unknown, the cats are magnetically attracted to Hyungwoo, always brushing against his legs and meowing at him, demanding to be picked up and pet. So more often than not, Hyungwoo has a cat wrapped around each arm with the last one by his feet, constantly tripping him as he works.


End file.
